


Special Bond

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Genderbending, Genderswap, Headaches & Migraines, Mentions of El Manana, Nightmares, Phase Three (Gorillaz), Smoking, Soul Bond, Substance Abuse, do ya thing, plastic beach, wobble street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Two bandmates cope with the phase that was hell on everyone…





	1. Special Bond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Agrius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agrius/gifts), [chinarai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinarai/gifts), [greenmeadow (byzinha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byzinha/gifts), [rachelmariem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelmariem/gifts), [Tungsten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tungsten/gifts), [CyborgCondesce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyborgCondesce/gifts), [SomniSol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomniSol/gifts), [amildgroove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amildgroove/gifts), [Trelobita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trelobita/gifts), [RainyDesert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyDesert/gifts), [crypticpanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypticpanda/gifts), [mahreemari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahreemari/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **New Note:** As you can see it’s been a little updated. Why? I didn’t like it. But all the good parts are in there. It’s also shorter than what had been planned. Why? Because I meant it: I am done. Finished. HOWEVER, all the civil fans out there still have my love, and encouragement to keep enjoying yourselves. I won’t be hard to reach, so feel free to PM.
> 
>  **Old Note:** ...Alright, so it's incomplete, but there is more in the file (it just has gaps); I wanted to put something up before New Years as it may not be possible to post for this couple as often because my life will be taking a different direction (hopefully for the better). This WILL be completed at a later date, I just don't know when. It was also part of a BOATLOAD of fics that were meant to be posted on Noodle's birthday, but only two were completed in time.
> 
> But you guys make me happy and you earned this. Seriously keep making the fanworks, enjoying the couple, and message about how much you love them anytime.

_Aaaagh_ …aw it hurt like dying—or was it crying? Either way, the rudely-disturbed singer groaned into her pillow as a crabby tom-tom let off behind her eyes.

Bloody migraines…

Slinging an arm over (knocking the ruddy lamp off—again), she felt around and near-yanked out the side-table drawer, palming through its meager recesses.

…Groaning again, she sat up, spiky hair in all directions, best of which cloaking her face.

She stood, took a step, ultimately catching her foot in the sheets. Flailing recklessly, as her newest keyboard— _and_ a dumbbell, of all things—was down there, her entangled limbs danced over bits and bobs until her fall was miraculously canceled…though she must’ve looked a sight, stretched halfway across the room, in a way that was rather cartoonish. Pushing her hands off the wall, she freed her feet and nearly forwent returning to the discombobulated room to slip on a lengthy t-shirt. Good publicity or not, she wasn’t one to traipse in her unmentionables. _That_ was the bassist’s calling.

Just as she reached the hall, a flaring javelin shot through her eye, and while clenching her mutinous head, she watched the world turn ‘round on itself. There was a lot of noise, most of it brief but loud, along with haggard visions of the unwanted kind. Accompanied by a final bout of external pain.

It was then the singer concluded she did not much care for stairs.

Legs dangling above her ears, the singer felt the crevice left by her teeth in the floor. The bassist was sure to notice that one…

Just as that drum invited a cantankerous bull moose, a set of heavy footsteps came padding through the hall.

Hair standing on end, she blindly titled up, mouth gaping for pleas of mercy-

“ _Ossu_ , 2D…”

One throbbing eye peeled open.

A set of green met it charily.

…Upon seeing the black-haired young man in draw-string pajama bottoms, she calmed significantly.

“Oi lil’ luv,” she garbled, a metallic taste pooling in her mouth. Her knees finally fell back to their rightful place with a _PLOP_ , and she gazed around woozily. “Wot yew doin’ up there?”

Leaning to a knee, the considerate black belt slid an arm beneath the lanky singer and hoisted her onto his shoulders. Her feet dragging behind them, he had a ways to go on the tall frontwoman, but it was then she realized just how tall he’d gotten since completing their band 6 years ago.

_Blimey…_

Making for downstairs, she quickly understood what he meant to do, and sagged wearily onto her youngest bandmate. A merciful smile pulled at his lips.

By stroke of miracle, no drunken bassists, mutated primates, or lumbering lorries lurked at this hour. Lucky her: last thing she needed was _another_ pounding in the head… Sitting down, she calmly ground her palms into her eyes while the great search through the chaotic kitchen commenced.

Her elbow nudged a lone shoe and, while he rummaged, wonderful salvation was found there in its mouth. Without blinking—for that, too, was a might painful—she popped the top, flung the lid, and knocked it back.

A hand took her wrist and poured in two more.

Blinking, she looked over at him. “Ah awready took me pills, luv.” She shook the empty vial.

“Pills? Those were jelly beans.”

…She wondered why they tasted so nice.

Reaching for the bottle in _his_ hand, the guitarist moved his arm away in reflex. Blinking again, her fingers curled meaningfully, but his face tightened. “You have enough.”

And then, with irrefutable horror, she saw him turn and make with the bottle toward the cabinets. 2D whinged piteously, but when he didn’t give in—theirs was a determined guitarist—she eyed the capsules in her hand defeatedly. Left no choice, she dry-swallowed the meager pair.

When she dared open her eyes again, there was a pack of ciggies in reach waiting for her. A hairband snug around it.

Bless him.

She felt more than saw the smile as she lit one up, then pulled her hair back into its trademark high-strung ponytail. She blew a stream of soothing relief into the kitchen before the youngest Gorilla spoke again.

“Toochi?”

“Mmhm?” She took a longer, grateful inhale.

“When did you start smoking?”

2D froze, all thoughts of relief vanished in thoughts of large, merciless fists coming her direction if they so much _suspected_ she had part in degrading their Baby Boy.

She swallowed, cancer stick shaking incriminatingly between her fingers. A migraine didn’t seem so wretched now. “W…why would yew wanna know  _that_ , Noodz?”

He looked down for no reason in particular, strumming his fingers on the cluttered table. “Just remembered that picture back when you had eyeballs; you were still in school.”

2D grimaced, wishing to Buddha that the wicked witch would start barking at them to stop making so much bloody noise, or everyone’s favorite giantess would glance in and ask what they were doing awake.

She exhaled: a long, billowing stream of irony. “When Ah was 12…”

He grew still.

“…Really?” Rather than shocked, he sounded…intrigued.

2D glanced left a bit quicker than normal; yeah, migraine really was the last of her problems. “Lil luv?”

He peered her way, giving that all-too-familiar tilt (sans the fringe in his eyes—was that intentional?).

“Don’ star’ on these, yeh? I’s ‘ell t’quit…” She knew there wasn’t much right on her part, but that didn’t mean _he_ had to wind up puffing on a Lucky Lung.

Noodle got up, quiet as you please, and headed toward the fridge. A light poured in the room (only a sliver), and she heard him pop a top of the fizzy orientation before returning to the chair.

“Feeling better yet, Toochi-kun?”

2D clicked her tongue against her mouth. The kitchen being unusually quiet, it was rather easy to focus on…anything, come to think. None of least her tiring head. The cig was put out. All tough love aside, the pain _was_ going on its merry way.

She gave a weary smile. “Much bettah, blud. Fank yew.”

A scraping came near and she geared her eyes toward an unopened beer can nudged in grasp.

“Want to watch a zombie film?”

In that moment, 2D couldn’t have been gladder to have him back.  

* * *

  
Within minutes, they were occupying each end of the couch. Her draping both arms over the cushions, he strumming a black dreadnought across his lap. Onscreen, some poor bastard had tripped and—conveniently—forgotten there was still time to run.

2D turned from the normally-investing sight of a young man getting his torso ripped apart. “…Yew sure yew should watch ‘ese?”

Without looking up, he grinned. “It’s alright; they don’t frighten me.”

2D half-heartedly returned to the movie (keeping an eye out left).

Noodle had been…reliving a lot since they’d settled in. Nothing too horrid; he didn’t jolt up screaming or anything like that (usually). But oftentimes, in the middle of the night, she’d develop a niggly feeling, pulling her straight to the guitarist’s bedroom.

There he’d be, all pinched in sleep, clutching the sheets with white fists. Usually, she’d sit until he came back around, remaining until he drifted off again. And if that wasn’t enough, lead him out to the car—knowing too well what it was to suffocate in one’s room—and drive all around, blasting worthy compositions until his head was right as rain. Whether she was headed out the next morn or otherwise…

So seeing him up this late, some red flags were waved in her peripheral vision.

“’Ow…’ow long ya been up?” She bit the filter a tad apprehensively.

“Not long before you came down. I was watching an old interview from our ‘Dirty Harri’ shoot.”

Oh yeah…that was a big one, it was! Probably the most skin she showed on camera, wearing army trousers and a green tank.

“Tha’ threw me a few times, it did. ‘Specially when Merde brough’ up all me exes. Said the shoot’d look better if it was done by a man.”

Noodle looked away, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head.

2D smiled. “I’s jus’ as well—if Ah _wos_ a man Ah’d probably have like for’y illegi’imate kids or summfink.” She laughed at such a thought.

Well her migraine seemed to have died down…but she still felt that dull sensation behind her eyes. Sobriety sure was…sobering. Was hard to tell if the world had more colors with or without pills. Good thing her two remaining bandmates had been so encouraging, else she might have been right stuck without a job.

Bloody witch…

A smile twitched at Noodle’s mouth.

“Many speculate she is the devil.”

“She _is_ the ruddy devil,” 2D muttered, ponytail flicking as she ensured the pickled Nazi was out of earshot, “prolly ’as ‘er ‘air like tha’ teh cover up th’ ‘orns…”

Here Noodle chuckled. “We never _have_ seen her forehead, now that I think of it.”

2D stilled…

Before more unbridled concepts could wonder blindly into the singer’s already-vacant head, something interrupted the not-unpleasant silence. Annoying, high-pitched, repetitive…

2D scowled at the blue handheld—deemed “tacky” by one ne’re-do-well and “suitable” by him—and turned off the alarm.

Noodz smiled and stood up with her, singer stunned to believe she roused through a whole morning.

He knowingly moved her ponytail out of the way as she slid on her jacket.

…All things considered though, wasn’t a bad way to start.

“Let’s explore the city after you get off, yeah?”

2D looked down and smiled. “Sure luv, woteva yew like.”

Noodle beamed and tiptoed to wrap the singer in a quick hug.

2D returned. Sure felt good to have him home.

“Say ‘ello to Rush f’me.” She said once they parted. “She don’ seem to get much comp’ny these days.”

Noodle followed her to the door, and watched as she meandered to the car.

“ _Itte rasshai!”_ He called, as the intro of _Champagne Supernova_ rose into the morning air.

When the familiar vehicle could be neither seen or heard any longer, Noodle trudged his way upstairs, no tolerance to cross the bassist’s path before noon—especially on an empty stomach.

Wobble Street had been kind in its own boring, typical, eventless way—the strangest occurrence had been shoes no one remembered buying showing up everywhere. Better than pirates and robotic doppelgangers, at least. And for all they were appreciated, Noodle was also glad to see no overzealous fan darkened their doorstep—more than surprising, considering neither their drummer or the newly-rebuilt island were particularly difficult to spot (even _more_ surprising no one called bullocks on the radio show).

He decided to take his one-remaining instrument up to the roof.

Where he’d be sitting on the belly of their beloved percussionist, playing a gleaming black dreadnought, until she came home.

* * *

 “And that was _M1A1_ —a _monstrous_ track spurting from our now-six-time-platinum debut! Up next, some numbers of my _own_ …favorite artists, daily-life tips on the benefits of Satanism—you, too, can _Hail Satan!_ —and…infomercials about…hemorrhoid cream…or something. Here’s _Kids With Guns_ , courtesy of your favorite band _and_ mine—GORRRRRILLAZ!!”

 The front door slammed, causing the irritable host to bear her unkept pointy teeth. Storming from the basement, she opted to give whoever interrupted—provided they weren’t a teenage hair-trigger or white-eyed giant—a proper welcome…

Today she sported a pair of black jeans, out of which crawled a single black string, and an originally _two_ -strapped black brassiere. This was a welcome change from the luau attire, as the only thing decency had to depend on was a lei.

“FACEACHE!”

2D jumped, unlit cigarette flipping out her fingers.

“Finally decided to join us have you? _Well,_ hope you don’t get too comfortable—I go’ an interview _all_ _for us_ 7 the hour this Frrriday. Now I _realize_ it’s a trial to remember with your _demanding occupation_ and that hollowed squash passing for a head, but this is the first slice of public indulgence _Ilse De Ballena!_ So it might be wise to tread careful-like for awhile…”

2D blinked.

The gorgon groused. “Publicity’s been _slight,_ paperbrain! And you _aren’t_ to gum it up with your erroneous gabbling! _Capiche?_ ”

2D blinked.

The ogress raised a-

2D scrambled away. “Yeah, yeah Merde!” Fingers bunched at her stomach. “Go’ it…”

The bassist huffed, flicking the live butt off her frontwoman’s nose as she turned away, revealing two partially-done hooks…

“If she burns this place down,” rumbled a deep tone outside, “I’m throwin’ her green ass from here to Hertfordshire…”

“I heard that!” The livid lizardette ferociously…slammed herself in the depths from whence she came.

2D sulked, fishing around her jacket. Wasn’t her fault she couldn’t just run amok whenever Merde wanted; she had a job to commit for herself. A _better_ one, considering it never blew itself on liquor and shoddy undergarments.

In fact, just last morning, Merde threw a bowl at her for backing into a newly-bought turntable. She had missed by seconds, but chose to attend the mess rather than finish the battered bluenette. 2D unexpectedly used the opportunity to escape.

This, among many bassist-related incidents left the singer a trifle stretched thin.

_Vrrrrt! Vrrrrt!_

Groggily flipping open her phone, she read the message onscreen.

_Puff puff pass, right?_

Typing, she responded:

**Right**

A moment passed…

_Click click click!_

**Wru?**

The singer drew her lip in so far, she thought her nose touched her chin.

Another moment…

_Jk. I was on top of the roof when you came home. Are you still tired from work?_

A sigh drew from the vocalist as she sagged against the wall a second time. A bit more wearily, and relieved, she typed the answer:

**Gimme 5 min lil luv**

Rochelle had made great headway in attaining her original size, but would need to endure the comfort of their rooftop for the meantime. Her head still slightly poked over the edge. A mash of debris and oceanic waste still entangled in her hair.

The teen took on a dissatisfied mien. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d gotten the rest yesterday…”

The drummer sent a kind smile. “Don’t worry about me now, just make time for those kick-flips and hoop-de-hoops, alright?”

“Wot?” Now it was 2D’s turn to tilt her head.

He looked up. “Parkour.”

 “Park my what?”

 “No no, it’s a method of using strength, speed and reaction-time to negotiate your surroundings. Often increasing to complete-vertical progression. I’ve been doing it since we came here.”

“…Ah c’n teach yew t’park, luv, jus’ gotta wait on the shop t’call.”

Rochelle sighed (must’ve been hot up there).

“Mer’ mention we got a call for tomorrow?”

Each Gorilla nodded (one noticeably happier than the taller).

“Did she mention exactly how we’re supposed to get there?”

The implication did not go lost on him. “It is supposedly in town, Rochelle, shouldn’t be hard to reach with your stature.”

The drummer did not look so assured.

He petted her large hand. “Don’t look so disheartened, Rush; we would never leave you, Toochi and I.”

A small dab of warmth settled in the blue-haired woman’s chest. El Mañana really did a number on them, most of all him, and for a long time she couldn’t bear to sing it. But Noodle still insisted it was one of his favorite tracks (don't ask her why, they all had their days). Once all was said and done, in Rochelle’s hiatus, she took it upon herself to look after him.

First thing he did when they got here was sleep. Sleep and sleep and sleep. Come the third day, she’d been scared to wake him up—as explained to an irate sea hag demanding the whereabouts of their last-remaining guitarist. Despite frantic pleas, in she barged, stopping short of the bed, and after a moment’s observation, poked forth a nearing finger.

Before the hooked talon could even touch, a strong limb shot out from the bed. 2D held her breath, watching the slumbering guitarist fling the intruder effortlessly from the room. Merde’s collision against the wall had jarred him awake, and both saw their self-proclaimed leader back-against the wall…upside down.

No more disturbances on her part.

Had Noodle known his uninvited guest was female, he probably wouldn’t have expelled them so forcefully—but 2D couldn’t find it in her to hold it against him (evil bitch).

Just about everything seemed to revolve around his return since. Even that shirt she wore last night had been from him! The one with an odd wrinkly pink thing, a hunk obviously torn off it, over the words “Brain Food.” Noodle got it for her at Christmas during Phase 2.

“OI! EITHER SOMEONE ORDERS OUT OR WE’RE ALL HAVIN’ MINGER WITH A SIDE OF SHOE LACES!”

2D passed them a regrettable look and inched downstairs.

Noodle shook his head. “It’s still a long way to feeling myself. Yesterday I almost snapped at Merde that I hated her.”

“That’s normal.” Rochelle told him.

“I know, but trauma and adolescence aren’t enough to-“

“No, hatin’ Bride of Frankenstein. That’s normal.”

A slap came from below, signaling the end of that conversation. With a nod from the drummer, Noodle parkoured his way expertly to the front door.

* * *

 “2D…you are not even in pain.”

Caught like a kipper, she flinched and turned around to face the disappointed guitarist. One orange vial stood between her fingers.

A calming night once again settled over the upturned flat, so it was all the more surprising to find her riffling through the cabinets. Even _more_ so to see Merde, having a fag at the table, considering there was a distinct absence of harsh noises before he walked in.

“Ah’m levelin’ off! Honest! Yestahday I only took two altogether.”

Noodle didn’t contract her humor (if it _was_ intentional). “Last time you couldn’t remember your own name.”

“I’s-“

“Your _birth_ name.”

…2D bit her lip.

Noodle waited.

Fingers knotting, she avoided his gaze.

“…I’s go’ a ‘J’, right?”

Merde snorted, feet propped upon a dirtied plate. “Don’t ask her to _remember_ anything; thought you’d know better now…” She lit one up, flicking ash on the floor.

Noodle kept his gaze aloft.

Merde quirked a brow. “Still not talkin’ to ol’ Mer, huh?”

No answer.

In one move, she shoved off the table. “Welp, there’s a shortwave dignitary in need of tending to and you lot have been rubbing off on me for too long.”

Noodle approached once the door slammed safely behind her.

He gently put a hand over her own.

“You took care of me—now I get to take care of you.”

* * *

 

If Noodle’s brand of care came in the form of Romero-esque gore and ciggies, 2D decided quitting didn’t seem so horrid.

  
“Say luv?”

 He looked up, a few chords having been strung under hushed dialogue.

“Everyfing awright, yew bein’ ‘ere on yer own?”

Noodle nodded. “…I still get them. Sometimes.”

2D waited.

He gave a small smile. “I know it may seem not much has changed…but…” he furrowed his brow, “…it’s trying. Sometimes. Waking up to realize I’m no longer in any danger.”

2D quickly alleviated from the opposite side to resituate closer to her lil’ luv.

“S-s’awright, darlin’. Yew’ve been through a lot. Ah dunno if Ah’d be the same if Ah went through what yew went through.”

Noodle looked at his guitar.

‘D bit her lip. “D’ya…’ow offen do yeh ‘ave ‘em?”

“Not as much.” He told her. “It got better after your help.”

2D sank in relief. “Yew know y’ain’t always gotta wait f’me teh find ya, yeh? Yew c’n come knock on mah door anytime y’need.”

He glanced at her.

She grinned.

…His smile grew warm and didn’t back down.

_“Setsumei nante dekinai.”_

2D lilted her head. “Eh? Wozzat mean, lil’ luv?”

His hair brushed his eyes as he grew a tilted smile.

“It means, you are my medicine _,_ Toochi.”

* * *

  _And we’re back! Coming to you live with some surprise guests this evening; we got 2D, Merde, Noodle, and via speakerphone, Rochelle! So! The Gorillaz! Thanks for joining us today._

 **Merde:** Oh thanks for havin’ us! No we would’ve been here sooner but 2D got another migraine on the way. Almost yakked right there in the car.

 **2D:** It weren’t there before…

 **Rochelle:** Mer got a little reckless behind the wheel. She _almost_ hit a child.

 **Merde:** Anywho, Q & A! Tell Aunty Mermer wot’s itchin’ yer brains!

_Is Rochelle holding down the fort while you’re all here?_

**Merde:** _(sniggering)_ More or less…

 **2D:** ‘Specially bein’ she’s always on the roof.

_Roof?_

**Merde:** _(glaring left)_ Be it there were some…unforeseen side-effects of the last album, our drummer has taken on noteworthy proportions—and currently indulges in our _highest_ accommodations! Sadly, any and all correctional attempts have proved futile.

 **Noodle:** Much like getting Merde to wear clothes.

_So, Merde—that is how you pronounce it, right? Mer-duh?_

**Merde:** Half-mer, half-duh—two simple things that form the ultimate concoction!

_(Laughter) So it’s meant to sound a bit like “murder”?_

**Merde:** _(grinning charmingly)_ Yeah…yeah, sure! Why not?

_(More laughter) It doesn’t hurt the image, does it? Merde-murder!_

**Merde:** Red rum backwards!

 **Noodle:** I don’t understand how people are still confused about that.

 **2D:** I’m confused.

_Will this—Rochelle’s condition—have any effect on upcoming projects?_

**Merde:** NO no—I-I mean we’ve been through worse. S’not like we haven’t had speedbumps before, I mean look at our first HQ! If nothing else we’ll uproot a couple telephone poles and claim an empty duplex.

 **Noodle:** We are still facing numerous impediments in regards to our music. Rochelle has yet to regain her rightful size-

 **Merde:** Try sayin’ _that_ five times fast.

 **Noodle:** —and 2D has a full-time job which must be prioritized in order to keep a roof over our heads, and, er, _under_ Rochelle’s, saying much about the corrosive impediments modern society can have on dedicated artists.

 **2D:** Yeh.

 **Noodle:** It’s also quite inconvenient with all the baboons frequenting the place. Last week 2D was attacked making breakfast.

 **Rochelle:** Is that what that noise was?

 **Noodle:** And they would only respond to physical force.

 **2D:** Bloody—you shoulda _seen_ ‘eem! Three stark-ravin’ monstahs just pop on out the fridge! Noodle storms in, right? And fends ‘em off wiv the closest fing at ‘and. A fiah extinguisha-

 **Merde:** All over the sodding floor! I walked in at the sound of monkeys screamin’ into traffic, and there they were, sprawled across the linoleum, laughin’ like shot foxes. The whole place looked like someone tickled Frosty‘s carrot a might too hard!

 **Noodle:** It was the most fun I had had for awhile.

 **2D:** Me three.

_Well, this is something I’ve wanted to ask, one host to another: what made you concoct a radio show of your own?_

**Merde:** Oh well it was right after the end of Plastic Beach! Yeah, we’d just finished wrapping up and were in need of a little R&R—BUT! Being our fans were in need of our rapier sound, and me being the stretchy virtuoso I am, I hooked some antennae up between two palm trees and that was it. The whole thing’s been infectious, really. I’ve even caught myself spouting along to our wondrous tracks time to time.

 **2D:** Last week neighbors fought it wos a dying cow.

 **Merde:** So Gorillaz HQ now lies in sunny ol’ Taimetuthaluau. A _lovely_ little tombolo tucked faraway’s off, where we could get a bit of privacy whilst charging for the next outburst. S’got old islander in the name, too.

_Really? What’s it mean?_

**Merde:** ‘Fetch the rum or I’ll bludgeon ya with a shoe.’

_Now that Plastic Beach has ended, is there anything new in the making?_

**2D:** _(rubbing her head)_ Wull, we’re tryin’a make music bes’ we can a’ the moment. I’s jus’ a mi’ difficul’, wif Merde spendin’ all our money on funny ‘ats. Las’ week Janey n’ Dana-

_(Merde gives 2D a resounding slap.)_

**Merde:** Now now! We’d be happy to disclose the tissuey bits of our upcoming masterpiece—unfortunately, the girls still have a few kinks to work in before this unholy mess can be unleashed. What I _can_ promise, chickies, is it’s gonna knock your eyes in!

_2D, you’re the tallest of the group. Do you get a lot of comments about your height?_

**2D:** Ah actually get a lot of admiration, bein’ a gurl oo’s 6-foot-2. Ah’ve been tallah than mosta me boyfriends—‘cept ‘is one time Ah dated a cricket playah from Portsmouth. He left aftah Merde set ‘is cah on fiah.

_Noodle, one fan asked: ‘That jacket is badass—no homo—where do you buy clothes?’_

**Noodle:** I actually dislike the phrase ‘No Homo,’ men have nothing to fear from affection. But I usually wear whatever Janey draws on me, ask her.

_A lot of people claim to see influence of each band member in the others; would you say that has ground?_

**Rochelle:** Well, we all influence each other in some way. Especially Merde; after an incident with a punch bowl, we each had to get tested for EBV.

_Noodle, a lot of people are still adjusting to the fact that you’re a teenager now. You’re what, 15? 16?_

**Noodle:** 16.

_(Everyone, even the girls, give some response of disbelief)_

_Wow…so that’s 6 years your band has been tearing up the place._

**Merde:** Six years and counting.

_Has it been a hard adjustment?_

**Merde:** Depends what you mean by ‘hard’.

 **Rochelle:** Watch it. Moldy cracka…

 **Noodle:** No stage of life is without obstacles, but I am glad to have come this far with each passing day. Besides, 2D has been teaching me how to drive; it’ll be nice to have a means of escape when the supply of rum starts to dwindle.

 _There’s also been some notable attention recently; the Gorillaz have_ groupies _! How has it been, this sudden uprising of half-naked women?_

 **Noodle:** Not too overwhelming; I saw my first naked woman at age 10.

_(2D scoots away from the speaker, which appears to be radiating heat. Merde eyes it warily)_

_2D, there was talk of cosmetic surgery near the beginning of Phase 2. How do you think girls feel when they see a famous singer with crooked teeth and black eyes?_

**2D:** Like listening.

_We’d also like to commend the three-dimensional characters in Phase 3’s videos. Your animation was so clean!_

**2D:** It was a bit hard, wot wif the electric goin’ out and awl. Made bathin’ a right feat.

 **Merde:** Changing animation is like anal—you don’t like it at first, but after awhile-

_So has the break been a refresher, or are you raring to get back in the spotlight?_

**2D:** Ah like gettin’ to go anywhere wivout need for Merde’s permission.

 **Merde:** Who said you didn’t need my permission?

 **Rochelle:** We’re gettin’ on—well, three of us at least. Nobody minds the domestic scene that much.

 **Noodle:** And it is nice to have dinner without anyone’s sexuality being brought into question.

 **Merde:** But make no mistake: Gorillaz will return, churning out songs like a well-oiled machine! I’ve actually been thinking of what to put on the cover. Something intense, something that’ll stay with you the rest of your life!

 **Rochelle:** You’re gonna pose nude?

_Speaking of: Merde, why is it in so many videos you’re half-naked, moving lasciviously, or in undergarments? You answered in a towel in MTV cribs; rocked your hips in Feel Good Inc.; and from what’s been seen of Gorillaz’s radio show, the lei offers very minimal coverage. Why all the excess nudity?_

**Merde:** Excess? I give the world Merde Niccals for free and these _peasants_ throw a fit!  Anyway, if you must know, they got all up my arse about that ever since the 5/4 video. They said ‘It has to cover your chest!’ Well, _didn’t it?_ All that aside, I’m certainly not opposed to showing a little; I mean if you’ve got it… Hell if I were a man, I bet it’d even get a laugh! You know I’ll bet in some universe _we’re_ all men and Noodle here is an overexcited little girl.

_While touring or making music, have any of you thought about variables outside the rock n’ roll lifestyle? Families, interests, all things conventional…_

**Merde:** Firs’ of all, nothin _’_ we do is conventional. If Rush’ or Noodz or space-for-rent here added a plus one, we’d be strappin’ brats to the roof of the tourbus and feedin’ ‘em with hollowed-out trophies!

 **2D:** Tha’ can’ be good for ‘em.

 **Merde:** Woman’s intuition really passed you over, didn’t it?

 **Rochelle:** I think our first love is and always will be music.

 **2D:** Ah like the idea, jus’ ‘aven’t met the righ’ one yet. Merde keeps scarin’ away all me boyfriends…

 **Merde:** Eh you’re better off, Bareback Mountain. Seriously if she didn’t pop-a-top so much we’d never go on tour. I think it’s the hair; first thing menfolk bring up-

 **2D:** They seem to like it fine, yeah.

 **Merde:** — _and_ that soddin’ ponytail keeps floppin’ around everywhere. I swear one of these days maybe I’ll just wait ‘til she’s O-D’d again and shave it all off.

_Noodle, your accent sounds a bit American albeit you’ve spent much of your life in Britain. Any reason for that?_

**Noodle:**  My accent stems from spending much time around Rochelle, but I do embrace British terminology.

 **Merde:** Oh yeah, yeah, we used to kick n’ scratch over what dialect he’d use. One time we were at a strip mall in Cambridge—terrible place, but needed some picks n’ strings—we started eggin’ him on about what was proper and what sounded like a Yank that don’t know pants from trousers.

 **Rochelle _:_** Mer pointed to this elevator-

 **Merde** : Lift.

 **Rochelle:** And asked, ‘What’s this?’

 **Merde** : N’ _then_ I said, ‘I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with _rift_.’

 **2D:** Lift.

 **Merde:** Not _you,_ short bus!

 **Noodle:** The only word I learned that day was “toy.” The girls got me a new Tamagotchi.

 **2D:** Rememberin’ these wos a lot easier before Mer gave me brain damage…

 **Merde:** Um, first, you need possession of a _brain_ for that to occur. Second, I don’t think it’s fair to keep bringing up mistakes made back when I was young and foolish.

 **Rochelle:** You were 31.

_Do you know you’re fictional?_

**Merde:** Is that supposed to rattle us? Put the fear of mortality in our two-dimensional bones? I’ve seen things none of your _live_ bands could hope to conceive! Let ‘em survive a missile misfire, undead apes, and rebelling toilets. The life of an outline makes things flexible—mmhmmhmm… Furthermore, do you know how long Disney’s been out? And they’re still airing that grating mouse 50 years runnin’! So what if I’ve got an outline? I’m gonna be around long after _you’ve_ jumped ship…

_What would you do if you weren’t in the music business?_

**Noodle:** Perhaps look into a dojo, develop my own style.

 **2D:** Ah’ve ‘eard good fings ‘bou’ thatchin’.

 **Rochelle:** Taxidermy’s alive and well.

 **Merde:** I’ve thought about dipping into the horror film vein. Glamorize a new monster that's never been done. Something large…

_Is there anything any of you learned from this recent phase?_

**Noodle:** Rochelle has taught me to be aware of evils in the world; 2D has taught me to remember the good; Merde has taught me you really are your own worst enemy.

_People know a bit more about Zen Bonds than they did a few years ago; apparently it’s when two people can understand each other without need for words at all. 2D or Noodle, can you give us an example of when this came into practice?_

**2D:** Ah fel’ ‘e was ‘ungry th’ other day, yeah? So Ah tried t’go out n’ buy some scones. But Mer wouldn’ fork ovah th’ cah keys. Fink she was shavin’ ‘er lip or sum-

_(Merde floors 2D with a resounding slap.)_

* * *

 Sure was nippy out. Might’ve been nice to throw on a shirt with a few more buttons.

2D yawned, vacating the recording studio, hailing for a cab. After finishing this last set with their newest collaborator—right nice duetter, put his all into the vocals—she  wanted nothing else but to head back and flop asleep. Even if she kept having nightmares about singing pizza…

The world was glad to see them again, but this Phase sure took a lot out of a Gorilla. Not that they weren’t happy, but there was a tour coming up and everyone was plenty exhausted. Rush was taking the worst of it: falling asleep during two rehearsals already.

 _Noodle,_ on the other hand…

A smile curved to her lips. Noodle. Blud. Lil’ love. She couldn’t believe it… One minute he came up to her hip, the next he was riding Jaguars, looking happy as the first day they started.

_Ding dong, the witch is head! Which old witch? The wicked witch! Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!_

2D looked down, her pocket both vibrating and emanating one very loud ringtone.

Hmmm…to answer or not to answer…

She reached down and fumbled in her pocket, thinking of the guitarist who dropped her off for this very shot.

The screen read “Devil Woman.”

She chose green.

“’El-”

“TWO-DEE! Glad to have caught you, old girl! All finished with ‘He’s My Column’?”

"Mnnnnrf."

“Good good! Spritely as ever, let’s hope? Another prospective collaborator here’s wantin’ a word and I thought, ‘Who better to come along than ol’ Stephanie T—Pot?”

She pried apart her heavy eyes. “You’re not worried I’ll gum up their shoes or nuffin’?”

“No no no! You know the way it’s been: you’re wet, I’m tight.”

As Merde prattled about the whereabouts of their interested collaborator, 2D fiddled with the circular pendant on her neck, pondering whether to wear it for the club shot tonight. Janey had finished picking their outfits: a Hawaiian midriff jumpsuit for her and a leopard-lined white tux for Noodz. Made him look right snazzy, it did…

_Beep beep!_

Looking up, she thought she landed a cab until a screech in the distance caught her attention. Now it might’ve been her imagination, but one of the sleeker cars was slowing her way…

Occupied by one spritely dark-haired driver.

A wide smile grew as her dark eyes watched the striking vehicle park at the curb. A _lovely_ sight was reflected back through tinted windows.

Of its own accord, the passenger door slid open.

Shooting the other a bright grin, they peeled off once she climbed inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2D and Noodle sounded unisex enough.
> 
> “Merde” was originally picked thinking it meant “death,” when it really meant a French obscenity—but that fit as well (and come to think of it, we never do see Murdoc’s forehead, do we?).
> 
> “Rochelle” was definitely the first name that came to mind, but not originally wanted…since nothing as similar came up, it stuck.
> 
> I almost didn’t include Phase 4 albeit it was the original picked. Wobble Street ended up being the theme since we didn’t see much of it. Still, Humanz ultimately squeezed in at the end.
> 
> Verbicide did an interview featuring the career question in 2006. Found out while making this, go check it out!
> 
> According to “Pirate Radio Episode 1”, 25 minutes 16 seconds, Noodle is actually 19 by the time Plastic Beach rolls around (he then goes onto play “You Only Live Twice.” Bastard). Also found out while making this. But as she neither looks it and it would mean possibly 6 years in hell instead of 3…16 fits in this case.<
> 
> With all those half-buttoned shirts you know that would’ve got attention twice as much for She-D. Not sure if it was the bassist’s idea for publicity or they’re still natural flirts. 
> 
> Hope you 2Dle lovers enjoyed. I definitely enjoyed toying with rule 63.


	2. Deleted bits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun but didn't make the cut.

“Y-yew le’ eem go on ‘is own?”  
  
“Kid’s a ruddy blackbelt.”  
  
“…I…It’s just the-“  
  
“SHUT UP!”  
  
\------------------

“It was also hard to reassure Kyozu-sama of my safety at her ramen shop."  
  
2D scratched her head “Is _that_ why yew're name's Noodle?”  
  
The guitarist paused.  
  
\---------  
  
Rochelle scowled. “Why ya gotta make me bad cop?”  
  
“Ah'm nawt!” 2D insisted.  
  
\------------------  
  
“Yeh? N’ ‘ow do Ah know it’s yew? Nawt Cyborg?”  
  
“You have a pair of knickers with Spongebob on them.”  
  
Merde and Rochelle slowly reigned their eyes on her.  
  
…2D mutely ducked her head.  
  
“…You’re so stupid.”  
  
Rochelle was similarly boggled.  
  
“Girl, for real?”  
  
2D looked away, a pink tinge hueing her face.  
  
“…Are you wearin’ ‘em _now?”_ Their bassist’s mouth spread into an evil grin.  
  
Before the keyboardist could blink, she was seized by the back of the jeans. 2D gawked at the she-beast behind her.  
  
“E-EY!“  
  
Merde pulled the hem of the trousers and her grin grew larger. “Well well well, _‘Oo lives in a pineapple under 2D’_?”  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
**Merde:** That kid turned not only turned _our_ heads but the world on it’s…head.  
  
**2D:** Could even play in his sleep!  
  
**Rochelle:** He even used to do covers of our favorite songs.  
  
**Merde:** Including that jazzy number by Michaels! Don’t ask me how, but he made that one right…listenable.  
  
**2D:** It sounds brilliant!  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
Merde was speeding ‘round the corner before 2D completely flopped onto the pavement. Noodle came from behind, and helped her reach the warm confines of the flat.

  
The two collapsed on the living room floor, not bothering with the troublesome stairs.

 

\-------------------------

It was lucky the "DARE" video was finished at such a time. Shortly after, a great embarrassment happened.

"The kid's growin' 'is chops!" Merde laughed, Noodle's reddening face throwing the prattling cactus a glower.

2D and Rochelle were considerably more sympathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seether. Careless Whisper. That is all.


End file.
